I wake up in a bathtub full of money. Twelve o’clock. Six of my wives come in the room and want to do sex to me. Can’t babes. I’ve got a lot of money to count today. And a lot of money to spend. Nobody ever said this mayor thing was going to be easy.
My servant shows me the newspaper headlines. “Mayor Still Amazing.” It’s good to know that the newspaper I control is on my side. Some people said I had a monopoly when I bought the entire town. Thank God the mayor never saw it that way.
I clock in. Someone has to run the town, and my next door neighbor Cornwallis does a great job at that. He answers phone calls and delivers packages and sweeps floors –mayor stuff that I am too busy to do. When there’s an important question, he runs it by the real man in charge. That guy is also a lifesaver.
Time for a meeting. My cabinet consists of the equally crucial positions of economic adviser and personal trainer. My economic adviser takes care of the town’s financial problems, like when I run out of money or when I am so sick of money that we burn it to heat the homeless. The personal trainer doesn’t help the town in any way. He’s just a little perk that comes with the job.
I go outside and hear a guy screaming. I ask him what’s wrong, and his jaw drops. It’s the mayor. He tells me the courthouse is on fire and there are people trapped inside. What can be done? Open your car, I say. He does, and it is spectacular: candy beans of every flavor pour out and engulf him. “Mayor!” he cries. I leave the scene without ever telling him my name.
I walk on and hear a man say something about his son needing foot medicine. Coming right up. Can I get you anything else? A children’s hospital? An orphanage? “There are no more orphans!” he cries. “You fed them all!”